


Protocol Kappa

by simplecoffee



Category: Men in Black (Movies)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Casual badassery, Character Development, Character Study, Feels, Fever, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Injury, Schmoop, Sickfic, Sleepiness, Stuffed Toys, The Author Regrets Nothing, and at least one terrible pun, awesome friendship, but receive it he goddamn will, jay will make sure of that if it kills him, kay is unused to receiving affection, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-06 19:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11607363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplecoffee/pseuds/simplecoffee
Summary: Five times Kay fell asleep in the office, and one time he didn't.





	Protocol Kappa

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 20th, MiB! I'm here to bring the fluff. Seriously, here's _all the fluff_. You have been warned.
> 
> This fic assumes MiB 3 did not happen, mainly because the writers forgot that Kay is an actual human who canonically laughs and cries and is super touchy-feely despite his stern, adorable face.

_1._

 

You learn quick enough in the NYPD that murder's a plain, everyday sort of crime.

James Edwards, Jr., never did learn that lesson. To him, murder's murder, and murder _ain't cool_. Black or white or human or alien: taking lives is taking lives, and he's going to hunt down the people who do it. Galaxy or no Galaxy; Orion's Belt or no Orion's Belt.

Also, _he was right all along_ about Ms Edelson being _weird_.

James may have had no damn idea what he'd stumbled into, but Agent Jay knows he is sure as hell _down for it_.

And, bang on cue, there's Agent Kay calling his name.

-

"Ya tired, Slick?"  
  
Tired? He's fuckin' _pumped_. "Hell naw."  
  
"Good." Kay whips up a file and holds it in his face. "Alien MacGuffins 101. Orion's Belt, pages forty-five to sixty-four. Get some background reading in, kid. We have a half hour; I'm going to take a nap."  
  
Jay blinks.  
  
"Wait, you're what now?"  
  
Kay says calmly, "I will be on the couch in the inner office. Come and get me in twenty-three minutes. Rest is a weapon, tiger; don't you forget that."  
  
Jay says, "I...won't?", but Kay's already closed the door behind him.  
  
-  
  
Zed, working in the outer office, waves him on through.  
  
Kay is stretched out sleeping on his back, looking even more carved out of stone than he does when he's awake. The lines in his face seem softer, though; that's the first thing that Jay observes. The second is the bright green alien plushie nestled in the crook of his arm.  
  
It...is a _very_ bright green. It's also knitted. And squishy. And soft. And though Kay looks no less majestic for it, he somehow also looks _adorable_.  
  
Jay tiptoes back out through the door, with probably the goofiest smile on his face.  
  
"Zed," he whispers piercingly. " _Zed!_ Hey, man, you're gonna want to see this."  
  
Zed finally bothers to look up. "What's the matter, kid, you chicken?"  
  
"Naw," he says, and hell, this time he ain't even mad. "Did you know that Agent Kay sleeps holding an _alien teddy bear_?"  
  
Zed is unmoved. "Everyone knows it. They just don't mention it, because they're smart. Word to the wise, champ: do not mention the alien teddy bear."  
  
Jay boggles in silence for a second, but then decides not to push it. There'll be time for explanations later.  
  
He wakes Kay, and does not mention the alien teddy bear.  
  
-  
  
There is no time for explanations later.

 

* * *

 

_2._

 

Kay makes all kinds of warm, fuzzy, unacceptable offers of comfort, and then _completely disappears_.  
  
Apparently he's got other apartments than just the one with the weapons stash. Not that Jay cares, of course. He's still pissed off at him. For...for not telling him about Laura, of course. Not for going away to live a happy civilian life and leaving him alone to deal with idiots and wannabe heroes for five years. Not at all.  
  
Damnit.  
  
Anyway, it's not like he could talk to Kay these days if he tried. The man is being as slippery as a Marasnachian slime worm. Talks business, shoots nasties, goes home. Just like old times.  
  
(Jay has to admit, the routine kinda helps get him back on his feet after Laura...after Laura.)  
  
And then one day, while opening the wrong locker _again_ \- the townsfolk are always pleased to see him, but that shit gets old pretty damn fast - he sees, out of the corner of his eye, a bleary-looking Kay and a flash of green.  
  
So he slams the door shut on a moving speech about light and dark, and catches the man red-handed sleepily stashing his plushie away.  
  
"Kay! Hey, man, you been sleeping at headquarters?"  
  
Kay immediately slips back into his I-Am-A-Prickly-Hedgehog-Fear-My-Cute-And-Crinkly-Face routine. It does not hide the tired lines around his eyes. "...Maybe."  
  
" _Maybe?_ Dude, you got some issues - you been sleeping in the office and you didn't think to tell me? You coulda crashed at my place, man."  
  
"Jay. _Jay._ Listen, kid, I got plenty of places to sleep. I just thought I'd better stay here a couple days in case my brain started malfunctioning again. You don't want a rogue agent on the loose, now do ya."  
  
Jay looks at him carefully.  
  
"You mean you didn't feel good."  
  
Kay snorts. "Talk to me when you've had your head unscrambled by a steampunk egg-whisk machine in Jack Jeebs' basement. You want some coffee? I want some coffee."  
  
Jay stares after him in silence. This man needs an intervention, is what he needs.  
  
-  
  
Jay goes upstairs to the Worm Guys early, and snags their first pitcher of medium roast. They wail in unison for a total of two seconds, and then set to work on making another. Jay promptly steals some of the real milk and cream, too.  
  
Dawn's barely broken; the office is dark. Kay sleeps just as he did five years ago: stretched on the couch, still in his black suit, the soft green alien teddy bear tucked in his left arm. Only this time, cuddled in his right...  
  
"Frank!" Jay yelps, somehow managing to whisper. "Man, I thought you didn't even like the guy!"  
  
"Put a sock in it," says Frank - it bears repeating - _from Kay's arm_. "He's a snuggly person. I'll bet you didn't know that. Also, shut up or you'll wake him."  
  
Jay takes his point, puts the coffee on the hot plate to keep warm, and dozes in the wheely office chair until he hears movement.  
  
Kay looks oddly blissful, stretching and snuffling adorably as he wakes. Eyes still closed, he reaches out and gives Frank a little scratch behind the ears, before he surfaces completely and notices Jay with a sleepy squint.  
  
"That coffee I smell, Junior?"  
  
Jay's face is busy doing the weird, smiley thing it tends to do when Kay does something cute.  
  
"Yeah boy, it sure is."  
  
Kay pets Frank's butt, then nudges him gently towards the edge of the sofa.  
  
"Frank, the hell are you doing here? Didn't you have some filing to do?"  
  
Frank flops off the sofa in response and heads out the door, mumbling " _ungrateful humans_ " under his breath.  
  
Kay takes a sip of the coffee Jay hands him, closes his eyes for a moment in appreciation, and then is instantly all business. "Okay, what d'you got for me, Tiger?"  
  
Jay blinks. "Hey, you just gonna pretend that never happened? You were _snuggling_ , man! _Snuggling_!"  
  
"I don't know what you're talkin' bout," Kay says. "I do not understand that word."  
  
"Sure, man," says Jay, and again, does not mention the alien teddy bear sitting beside his partner on the couch. "I get it. You're a mean tough guy who doesn't cuddle."  
  
"Don't get ahead of yourself, I only said I don't know what it means."  
  
Jay lets himself smirk a little, but refills Kay's cup without his asking. "So, we got a skimmer at 38-45, a brawl over some Cancrian diamond candies way uptown, and a guy who puts alien modifications on muscle cars. Or, you know, we could go to the diner on the corner and get some pie first."  
  
Kay drains his second cup of coffee and nods contemplatively.  
  
"Hey, kid," he says. "You remember how I told you I was sleepin' here 'cause I didn't feel well?"  
  
Jay does a double take. "You did _not_ say that. I had to figure that out for _myself_."  
  
"I may not have told you the whole story."

"You didn't tell me any of the story!"  
  
Kay glances over at him, and this time the look in his eyes stops Jay right in his tracks.  
  
"I've been sleeping here because I missed it," he says. "Manhattan, MIB...my partner."  
  
Then adds softly, "The chase. The stars."  
  
Jay whispers, "Welcome back."  
  
Kay clears his throat, and smiles. "Let's go get that pie, shall we?"

 

* * *

 

_3._

 

It's routine, inasmuch as saving the world is routine. Which is to say, it's entirely routine, until it goes to hell in a flash of claws and teeth and _agent down_.  
  
They've underestimated this one, badly. A van comes speeding from its station a block away, but only two of the backup contingent have tri-barrel training, and no Series 4 could ever be up to taking this bastard down. And so they spend precious minutes targeting each brain, each eye, each heart, while Agent Kay bleeds out on the sidewalk.  
  
Jay dives in with all barrels blazing, shoulders bridged against the recoil - doesn't dare to look until the streets are littered with ammo casings and the creature is well and truly dead. Then, he tosses his gun at the nearest junior agent, and leaves the neuralyzing to the cleanup crew as he scrambles over the carcass to his partner's side.  
  
Kay is lying half unconscious, breathing deliberately slow but shallow, crisp white shirt stained darkest red from two deep gouges across his abdomen. His blood seeps through the cracks in the sidewalk, staining his rifle and soaking Jay's knees; the pulse in his throat threads so much quicker than it should, and his cheek is clammy and cool to the touch. When Jay bends to move him, he keens softly under his breath.  
  
Jay carries him to the car like the motherfucking _Pietà_ , and a hush follows them through the streets as they move.  
  
"Kay, man," he says softly, settling him in the back seat, "this better be good. Don't be stainin' all my seats for nothin' - don't you fuckin' die on me, man."  
  
-  
  
Lady Lilac has the medical bay on full alert by the time they arrive. Jay hands him over with a silent plea, the Doorman helping pull the gurney as Kay disappears under the harsh OT lights.  
  
He collapses against the elevator door, and stares blankly at the opposite wall until the doctor is suddenly upon him, snapping her nautiloid limbs in his face.  
  
"Have you been sitting here for five hours," she is saying.  
  
Jay looks up, and feels himself put on a smile.  
  
"I don't know," he says. "Have I?"  
  
Lady Lilac nods and softens, the cirri that give her her name, and make her the legendary surgeon she is, folding to pat Jay's shoulder.  
  
"He's fine," she says. "He's doing great. Promising. He'll pull through. I have him asleep on what are loosely termed 'the good drugs'."  
  
Jay bows his head and closes his eyes.  
  
After a long moment, he asks, "Can I see him?"  
  
The corners of her purple eyes crinkle. "You can do one better, Special Officer. You can go make arrangements to move him upstairs, make him comfortable. Soft, happy. Healing. Kay hates medbay."  
  
"Can't say I blame him," says Jay, tries to hold a small bunch of her tentacles, then ends up hugging her instead and possibly sniffling into her shoulder.  
  
"Go," she says, gently tickling the back of his neck in what he thinks is a molluscan handshake. "Go, call the Worms."  
  
-  
  
The Worms come through _spectacularly_. Somehow they have access to the largest, softest couch Jay's ever seen, and they throw in two fluffy blankets for good measure. Hell, they even help wipe down the inner office with alcohol spray - well, okay, they wipe down about a square foot each, but they _help_ , and they do it without complaining.  
  
Jay catches sight of himself in the newly polished coffee table, and realizes he's a moron who needs to get out of these bloodstained clothes. So he takes a shower, puts on a fresh suit, and decides to stop at Kay's locker on the way to medical to see if the man has anything marginally more comfortable to wear.  
  
He finds a soft, worn, plain black sweater, clearly quite old but still very warm. He also finds the bright green alien teddy bear.  
  
So Jay does what friends do - what veteran field partners do. Once he's settled Kay on his brand new couch, tucked him in all warm and checked his IV several times, Jay puts the plushie in his arms.   
  
Maybe he strokes his hair a couple times, too.   
  
And then he promptly falls asleep with his hand still _petting_ his partner. It's not one of his greatest moments. Except - Kay's _alive_ , so you know. It kinda is.  
  
-  
  
"Damage report," says Kay quietly.  
  
Jay's eyes bug out of his head.  
  
Then he takes a fortifying breath. It's been twelve hours, he's spent seven of those sleeping, he has a set of flashcards in his pocket from Lady Lilac, and he is _so_ ready for this.  
  
"Damage report," he repeats ominously, sitting down beside Kay on the actual softest sofa ever, careful not to knock the IV pole as he does so. "Damage report is that, while we successfully neutralized the serpulid with no additional casualties, we did not have adequate backup going in, which meant that you ended up in surgery for five hours after losing, oh, approximately thirty percent of your blood volume, because you kept shooting while you were down even though that thing's claws _ripped open your spleen_ and you almost died!  _Sir._ "  
  
In retrospect, he was _not_ ready for that.  
  
Kay simply raises an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, we've all gotta die someday, Slick; might as well be in the service of the universe." He pauses. "Shit, I'm on morphine, aren't I."  
  
That's Jay's cue for the flashcards, of course. He discards the first two - _2 WOUNDS 30% BLOOD LOSS_ and _GASHED SPLEEN, YOU IDIOT_ \- and reads the third.  
  
"Yes, along with a cocktail of some other good shit, including vancomycin and metronidazole."  
  
Kay hums. "Possible interactions?"  
  
Jay flips the card. "Yes, you can still have coffee."  
  
That earns him a tiny smirk. "Recovery time?"  
  
"Eight days, if you're lucky."  
  
Kay says gravely, "I'm already lucky."  
  
Jay stares at him for a second, then blinks. "Well, when you put it like that."  
  
"I do. Lady Lilac give you those cards?"  
  
"Yeah, she did. She also said to tell you you're a dumbass."  
  
Kay smiles ruefully. "Yeah, okay."  
  
Jay flips the last card: _MAKE HIM TELL YOU HOW HE'S FEELING. NO, HE IS NOT FINE._ "Hey, how ya feelin', man?"  
  
"Fine," Kay says immediately.  
  
Jay points an accusing finger. "No, you are not fine!" _  
_  
Kay rolls his eyes. "Jay, I am as fine as I can be with a giant slash wound in my body - "  
  
"- _two_ \- "  
  
" - you did not tell me that, all right, two - I am warm, and medicated, and not in too much pain, and it's about damn time you stopped worrying, kid."  
  
It figures that twelve hours after almost _dying_ , Kay is still the eye of the storm. Still able to calm Jay's fears just by staring them in the face. It's almost unfair - except he immediately ruins the effect by suddenly noticing the plushie in his hands, then carefully, druggedly snuggling it.  
  
"Hey, Tiger," he says presently, and waits for Jay to meet his eyes. "Thanks."  
  
Jay reaches for his hand, and pats it.  
  
"Get some sleep, you dumbass," he says.  
  
-  
  
Kay spends most of the next few days dozing. Jay spends them prowling the inner office, snapping at anyone who dares to show up at the door.  
  
"Frank, _no, down,_ I don't care if you just want to see him."  
  
"Okay, Bob, I'll give him the flowers, but _no you can't come in_ _!_ "  
  
"Worms! He's sleeping!"  
  
"X, I will neuralyze you in the _face!_ "  
  
"...Zed, I gotta - "  
  
"Neuralyze me in the face," Zed says wryly. "I know."  
  
Jay coughs a little and looks at his feet. "You can come in if you want. He's sleeping, is all."  
  
Zed nods, spends a moment looking around the room. There are flowers from the Twins, a stack of magazines from the Doorman, a fruit basket from Lady Lilac, a soft white sweater from the junior agents, and a truly hideous Remoolian squeaky toy from Frank - but of all the colourful things in the room, of course it's the alien plushie that Kay's somehow managed to tuck halfway under his cheek as he sleeps. "You've made this place real comfy, kid. It's not regulation, but hell, I appreciate it. He's my friend too, you know. Drives me insane when he quotes Shakespeare on his official case reports, but he's a great guy."  
  
Jay says, "Yes, sir."  
  
Zed eyes him carefully.  
  
"Stop beating yourself up, Agent Jay."  
  
"...excuse me?"  
  
"You brought him back to MIB in time,"  Zed says. "You fixed the backup protocols so this never happens again. Now you just need to let him heal. He's tough as hell, is Kay. And the worst is over, you know."  
  
Jay sighs. "Zed, man, seriously, if you don't stop with the mushy talk I'll neuralyze _myself_ in the face. Now, scram."  
  
-  
  
He wakes the next morning to soft chitterings and the smell of good coffee. Kay is sitting up, wrapped in his fluffy blanket, and the Worms are clustered round him, pouring him a cup from a giant carafe and whispering office gossip in his ear.  
  
Jay would rise up like an avenging fury and banish them outright, but Kay's eyes are soft and his smile lights up the universe, and he can't bring himself to make them leave.  
  
He stumbles blearily out of the wheely chair, and Kay turns the beam on him.  
  
"Morning, Ace," he says. "Didn't want to wake ya. Hey Worms, give the kid some of that coffee, yeah?"  
  
Jay takes the cup, sits down on the sofa - narrowly avoiding squishing the plushie - and gives Kay a quick one-armed hug.  
  
Kay looks quizzical, but lets it go. It's just as well; Jay's trying to say a million things, but these past few days have been so hard that his throat is choking on them all. The coffee hasn't kicked in yet, either, so maybe he just doesn't have the words. Maybe.  
  
"Hey, man," he finally says. "How ya doin'?"  
  
Kay blinks tiredly, lazily, like a happy cat. Tips his paper cup in soft salute.  
  
"I've been better, kid," he says, "but I'm doing just fine."  
  
"I'll take that," says Jay. "God, I'll take that."  
  
Kay puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, waits a while for him to catch his breath. Then he says, eyes twinkling, "Hey, is it true you told Zed to scram?"  
  
" _Shut up,_ Kay," Jay groans as the Worms throw back their heads and laugh.

 

* * *

 

_4._

 

MIB is dull and quiet.  
  
The air is filled with the peaceful tapping of keyboards and the chirping whirrs of the on-duty robots. There is the occasional pleasant _bloop_ from the Twins' observation console. The day-shift agent at Immigration is playing his twelfth round of Scorchian Solitaire, and dozing off anyway. And Jay is bored out of his _goddamn mind_.  
  
It's not unusual for agents to take days off. Hell, _he's_ taken days off. And Kay does occasionally go off-grid to do mysterious Kay stuff. It's just - he doesn't usually do it on days like this. Slack days. Slow, understaffed, pitch-painful, _grey_ days. Days like this, Kay usually makes things better just by being here, telling weird stories, laughing about last week's mission when they both got drenched in freezing slime, turning paperwork into games. Refusing to be needled despite all of Jay's needling.  
  
...Yeah, maybe he should go play Scorchian Solitaire for a bit.  
  
He drops his pile of untouched folders on his desk, and is trying to sneak downstairs to Immigration when Zed catches him by the arm and shoves him in front of a random viewscreen.  
  
"Yo, man, what," he begins, before realizing it isn't random. It's a readout from LM-SAT 3009, showing the distinctive ion trail of a vehicle modified by Greg the Belaran, or as Jay prefers to call him, Greg the Asshole Car Thief. They've been chasing this dude for _months_.  
  
"I'm on it," he tells Zed, hiding the widest smile, and dials Kay. This day just got a _lot_ less boring.  
  
-  
  
He's tracked Greg down to a set of rendezvous points in Forest Park when Kay drives up in the old, busted hotness. Jay grins as his partner walks out swinging, deatomizer primed at his side.  
  
"What do we got, kid?" he calls.  
  
Then he coughs.  
  
Jay stares for a moment, but Kay looks unruffled and doesn't break stride, so he points down the track and outlines the plan.  
  
Twenty minutes later, they converge at the drop site in a perfectly orchestrated ambush. There is a sad excuse for a fight - these guys were sure as hell not expecting them - and then Kay's subdued both buyers and tossed them, bound, into their own car. Jay has stunned their old pal Greg, and is savouring the moment as he meticulously cuffs all his many fibrous limbs.  
  
"He's all yours, Ace," Kay says, and suddenly _is not there any more_.  
  
-  
  
Jay finds him sitting on a bench under a nearby tree, weapon still trained unerringly on their catch.  
  
"Hey, man, what's wrong with you?" he starts - then stops, recalibrates, and lets field instinct take over. " - Hey, you get hurt? You doin' okay?"  
  
"I'm fine," Kay says at once, not moving.  
  
Jay holsters his gun and steps closer, trying not to sound accusing as a sneaking suspicion takes hold. "Kay. Dude. When you said you wouldn't come in today, I assumed you were just off doin' Kay stuff."  
  
"I was," says Kay, still looking straight at Greg.  
  
"Hey," says Jay softly, and goes out on a limb: he puts his arms around Kay's shoulders, and smiles when he doesn't immediately shake him off. "You left me alone back there. That's not like ya."  
  
"Nah," Kay says, "I knew you could handle it."  
  
There's heat pouring off him, even through the suit. Jay rubs his back a bit, and Kay does the unthinkable: he leans into the touch, and _actually sighs_.  
  
Jay thinks they might be having a moment.  
  
"Jay," says his partner. "Why are you hugging me?"  
  
\- Well, he was wrong about the moment.  
  
"It's called affection, Kay. I am showing you it."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Also, when were you planning to tell me - "  
  
Kay snaps upright. "Move your foot."  
  
"...what."  
  
" _Move_ ," says Kay. " _Your. Foot._ "  
  
Jay does, and is followed by a thin clump of sticky thread.  
  
"Tryin' to steal your weapon via mycelium," Kay says. "Amateur city; I expected better of Greg. Watch your boots, kid."  
  
Then he whips out a _freaking switchblade,_ strolls over to Greg, and calmly cuts each of his several escape attempts in two.  
  
"Well," he says, sheathing the knife and surveying the prisoner, "I think we got to the _root_ of the problem there, don't you?"  
  
Jay facepalms, but they're both grinning as they load the cuffed car thief into the Ford.  
  
-  
  
Greg refuses to talk.  
  
The buyers spill everything they know, but it's not much; they didn't even know he'd rigged their brand new Mustang to explode. Frank is on the comms with the Belaran embassy, trying to find any dirt they have on the guy; meanwhile, Jay and Kay have him locked in a containment cell, waving his hyphae angrily in absolute silence.  
  
Kay has been holding his hand to his head for the past three entire minutes.  
  
"So," says Jay, easing into the conversation with grace and poise and - yeah, no. "When were you planning on telling me you're sick?"  
  
"I'm not sick," says Kay, and sniffs.  
  
Jay says amiably as Kay folds his arms across his chest, "Sure you're not. My dude, the air around you is like, two degrees hotter just from bein' around you."  
  
"And is that not completely normal? I may not have your game, kid, but ladies seem to think I'm hot."  
  
Jay rolls his eyes, then says gently, "You're leaning on the wall, Kay."  
  
Kay blinks slowly, but makes no attempt to move.  
  
-  
  
"All right, I've had just about enough of this."  
  
" _About time_ ," Jay snaps, then amends it to, "Damn straight. What's the plan, partner?"  
  
Kay points his stylus at him. "How do you incentivize a mushroom?"  
  
Jay blinks. "What the what now?"  
  
Kay spins on his heel, pauses for a telling moment, then marches up to Greg's cell wall and raps on it smartly with his knuckles.  
  
"Listen up, fungaloid," he growls, an added painful scratch to his interrogation voice. "You tell us the target of your little car bomb, we send you to Cnidarios 5. Moderate temperatures, neutral-acidic soil, and all the glucose you could ever glut your happy little self on. You don't, there's a transport leaving in six hours for Kepler 28, and you'll never even see trial on your own home planet. Let's see how you do under six-month ice caps, with no nutrients but _raw phosphorus_."  
  
He turns away majestically, and briefly squeezes his eyes shut.  
  
Greg finally rustles, "Okay, I'll talk."  
  
Jay does a little victory fistpump and steps in to record the confession, while Kay goes back to the desk in the corner and has a quiet sneezing fit. Greg is still talking into the camera when Jay walks back across the room and pats him on the shoulder.  
  
"He's trying to bring down an Oneirian diplomat. Good news is, he's not working for his government, so if we send him back he'll be tried for some variety of treason."  
  
Kay coughs softly and gives him a thumbs up. "So, how's this one rate on your weird-shit-o-meter?"  
  
Jay grins. "First of all, that's a ratio scale now, no longer a linear one. There have been updates over the years."  
  
Kay's lips quirk. "You sound like me, sport. I've trained you well."  
  
"Damn right," says Jay. "And, speakin' of you...goddamnit, you're sick, Kay. Go home."  
  
Kay finally cracks a smile.  
  
"What, and let you have all the fun? That's just bullshit, Junior. That's bullshit. Now - once more unto the breach."  
  
-  
  
Two hours later, Greg's done talking, and all they have to do is file the paperwork. Well, that and all the other paperwork they had to do anyway.  
  
"Good work, boys," Zed says, handing Kay a stack of folders - Kay, who is now suspiciously silent and sporting a soft black muffler wrapped snugly round his throat. "Now, we need to get these in by the end of the day on Belara, so it's a damn good thing that you came in, Kay."  
  
"Hey," says Jay indignantly. "This was supposed to be his day off, and you sic him with paperwork?"  
  
"You two made the arrest - this perp has to be put on trial immediately, and immaculately. Oh, and Kay, this is extra official, so I gotta ask - _please_ don't quote Shakespeare."  
  
Kay's eyes have the wretched look of a man who can think in nothing but Shakespeare.  
  
"Aw, hell," says Jay, "c'mon. Let's get started on this pile of crap."  
  
He steers Kay to the inner office via the Worms' break room, and leaves him at the desk reverently breathing in the steam from his cup of coffee. Then he doubles back, and drops three tissue boxes on his stack of files. Kay barely even seems to notice.  
  
"Hey, man," Jay prods. "You good with the files? I can take some if you want."  
  
"I'm good," says Kay, and _oh_ that's a croak. "No promises with the poetry, though. You get on with your own reports, kid."  
  
"I'ma come back to check on you," Jay says. This time, Kay just nods and sighs.  
  
-  
  
He's true to his word, and goes back the moment he's done giving Greg the damning of a lifetime. Kay's got a neat stack of finished files, a single empty coffee cup, two remaining tissue boxes, and is fast asleep slumped over his desk with his head tucked into the crook of his arm. His muffler is pulled half undone, and the glass tabletop mists and clears in time with his breathing.  
  
Jay pauses to shake his head, then barrels out to Kay's locker.  
  
-  
  
Kay coughs miserably as he wakes, looking almost too tired even to lift his head. Jay hands him a glass of warm water, squeezes his shoulder when he whispers his thanks.  
  
"You're done with the stupid files, right?" he asks.  
  
"Yeah," croaks Kay, " 'm all done."  
  
"Okay," Jay says, "first of all, how'd you do it so fast, you're the paperwork _bomb_ , I've only finished _one_ file - and second of all, here's what you're gonna do - " he hands Kay the box of cold medicine he'd found hidden away in his locker. "You're gonna take some of this, and you're gonna go home and get some damn rest, is what."  
  
Kay nods, shivers, and presses his knuckles to his forehead.  
  
"For real, man," Jay says softly, "go home. Sleep. And, hey, take this with ya." He holds out Kay's green alien plushie, wiggling it until he notices.  
  
Kay barks a quiet laugh and takes the toy.  
  
"Thanks, kid," he says. "For everything."  
  
And pats Jay softly on the back as he leaves.  
  
"Don't come back before Friday!" Jay yells at his retreating back.  
  
"Acknowledged," Kay calls back hoarsely, and does the unthinkable - actually complies.

 

* * *

 

_5._

 

It's a long trip back to Battery Drive, and Jay...kinda, sorta, can't see.  
  
Well, he can see sometimes. And then, sometimes, he can't. It's raining, he thinks, white noise punctuated by the steady swishing of the wipers on the glass. They've both been awake for over fifty-seven hours, trailing a known killer from back alley to suburb to freeway; Kay should no way in hell be driving, but cleanup crews have more urgent duties than chauffeuring two exhausted agents back to HQ.  
  
"Kay," Jay says, vision phasing out again. "Hey, Kay, you doin' all right?"  
  
"I'm fine, Slick," his partner says calmly. "And, guess what, we're here. Stay put."  
  
Jay thinks staying put is a dumb idea, so he steps out of the car, and immediately regrets it when his right leg buckles underneath him. Kay catches him before he hits the ground, because Kay is magic and, as usual, the best at hauling people to their feet.  
  
"I told you to stay put," he grumbles softly in his ear.  
  
"Yeah," Jay pants, "yeah, you did. Did we send the containment bots?"  
  
"Yep," Kay says, "Q's directin' them, it's under control, we're done for the day. Let's get you patched up, kid."  
  
They drag each other indoors, out of the rain.  
  
-  
  
It sure ain't a slide in the recruitment pitch, but sometimes missions are screwed from the start. They've worked on scant intel before, but never like this - chasing dead end after dead end after faintest straw to clutch, snide gossip column after terrified tip-off, finally cornering their target in a crowded parking lot just moments too late to prevent him from holding the entire city hostage. The lives of millions for the lives of two: his former spouse and her new lover, locked in their bright green SUV, or a timebomb loaded with the most potent human neurotoxin ever seen.  
  
Kay, forever picking fights with creatures bigger than him, went in for the distraction while Jay worked on deactivating the bomb. He has no recollection of how, but he managed that with seconds to spare; was coolly walking over to reassure the victims when the SUV exploded in a ball of flame. The next thing he remembers is the buzz of the containment crew, the guttural hisses of the alien murderer being taken into custody. Lying stunned on the asphalt, barely able to move. And, then, it started to rain.  
  
God, he hurts so badly still.  
  
"Kay," he mumbles, flails out blindly. "Kay, where are ya? What's goin' on?"  
  
A hand squeezes his arm, on cue, and suddenly he can kinda think. Someone's wrapping his swollen knee, someone else cleaning up the minor shrapnel cuts on his torso; the lights above him are blinding. Medbay.  
  
Kay lets go of his arm, and everything fades out of focus again.  
  
"Right here, sport," he says, sounding not quite there. "You're gonna be okay, just wait a few more minutes and we'll get on outta here."  
  
" _Kay_ ," interjects an accusing voice above them, "don't be a stupid, idiotic moron. Stop coddling this baby child, and let me look at that wound."  
  
Kay says, with all fifty-nine hours' worth of exhaustion, "Lilac... _what wound._ "  
  
"Look at yourself, Kay," the doctor says, and Jay squints his eyes long enough to follow her gaze. Kay's badly scraped all down the right side of his face, looks like he's just shrugged off his coat, and is staring blankly at a deep, slowly spreading bloodstain below his collar.  
  
"Oh," he says in dull surprise.  
  
"Stupid human," says Lady Lilac, and bears down on him with a suture kit.  
  
Kay sits back, and lets himself be treated. Jay lies back, and lets himself drift.  
  
-  
  
Jay's senses decide to check back in when the lights don't hurt him any more. There's a hydraulic whirring; elevator. Kay is a soft, warm presence at his side.  
  
"Hey, man," he says as the whirring stops. "I can walk, you know. Why're you holdin' me up?"  
  
Kay says, deadpan, "It's called affection. I'm showin' you it."  
  
Jay would say something pithy and smart, like _no shit, Sherlock_ or _shut your face_ , but his feet choose that moment to trip over themselves and for a few seconds there's a _lot_ of pain.  
  
"Easy," says Kay's quiet growl above him. "Easy, kid. I got your back."  
  
It's true; he does, always. For example, right now, he's put Jay on a bed - wait, no, a couch. A soft...couch.  
  
" - Kay. Man, this is your couch. Where're you gonna go?"  
  
"Couch don't got my name on it," Kay says, pulling a blanket over him. "I'll be right here, Ace. Don't you worry 'bout a thing."  
  
-  
  
Sleep comes and goes like a pulsar on the fritz. Jay's worried, very worried - against a direct order, too - but damned if he can remember why. He looks at the weird light patterns on the ceiling, the weird melty shadows on the opposite wall, the weird distorted shapes familiar things assume on moonlit nights, until the pain and the painkillers both drag him under again. Once, he sees Kay standing at the window like a marble statue, staring at the rain; the next time he surfaces, though briefly, he's gone.  
  
Jay wakes for good about nine hours later to sunlight streaming across his face. The first thing he does is drain the water bottle beside him; the second is scan the room for Kay.  
  
He almost doesn't see him at first, but he's there. Tucked away in the darkest corner, curled so small in his chair that he's almost hidden behind his desk. He's restless, breathing quick and shallow in his sleep, and has silently shuddered himself awake before Jay can say a thing.  
  
He straightens up as Jay approaches, runs a shaky hand through his hair and smiles. He looks slow and quiet, like he's barely slept at all; has foregone his shirt and suit coat in favour of his soft black sweater. Jay can see the edge of the heavy bandaging over his right collarbone, can see the heaviness in his eyes. He knows what pain looks like on that face, knows the migraines that Kay gets after long stakeouts when he's slept too little. Knows that he was right to worry.  
  
"Testing out the leg?" Kay says gently as he walks closer. Now that he's uncurled, Jay can see the alien plushie in his lap.  
  
"Yeah," Jay says, then blurts, "You stayed."  
  
Kay shivers again. "Said I would, didn't I, Slick? I don't break no promises, ya hear?"  
  
"Kay," Jay sighs, dropping into a chair next to him. "Here - hey, let me see your face?"  
  
Kay turns his head obligingly, lets Jay brush his thumb over the scrapes. They're not too bad, all told, and they do have ointment on them; Kay's no slouch at wound care. "Satisfied?"  
  
Jay only wishes. "You more hurt than you let on?"  
  
Kay swivels his chair instead of shaking his head. "No. Just - kinda messed up, Ace. Dreams. Everybody gets 'em, sometimes."  
  
"Dreams," repeats Jay, watching the other man's weary smile, looking at the cold cup of coffee on his desk, the ice bag he'd thought was a cushion from afar - and finally, the plushie resting gently in Kay's left hand. Dreams. He gets them too; of course he does. Sometimes they're not as simple as _apocalypse, now_ , either.  
  
Sometimes he dreams of blue lights, and diners, and spends the next few hours staring out of the window, at the rain.  
  
"Hey," Kay says, softly breaking his epiphany chain. "You wanna know how I got this thing?"  
  
He's holding up the plushie with his injured arm; winces slightly and puts it back in his left hand as Jay nods.  
  
"Winter of '76," he begins, "we got a distress call from a Cynarian ship that'd been attacked in the vicinity of Venus. Crew gravely injured; ship damaged badly enough that they could barely steer. I headed out to guide them to a safe crash landing, but they spiralled outta control too soon, a little way off I-78." He sighs, looks down at the little plush toy. "Little girl and her mom were pulled over there with a busted tire - it was a small ship, but hell, it would've crushed that poor kid's skull."  
  
Jay says, "You shielded her."  
  
Kay inclines his head. "Cracked my right shoulder blade to hell and back, and the concussion lasted for weeks. But Alison survived unhurt, and decided to give - Teddy, here - to me." He pauses. "One of the Cynarian crewmembers survived, too; their captain didn't make it. K'naxia still writes in to MIB sometimes - Alison, of course, does not."  
  
"Neuralyzed."  
  
Kay nods. "She's an artist now, does the occasional bit of web design. Don't think she knows she ever had an alien toy, but, well - she did, and she handed it to me, and she said, thank you, Mr Agent, this is for you. And I knelt down and I promised her I'd keep that little alien safe as long as I lived."  
  
Jay watches Kay adjust his chair again - the lines of pain around his eyes, the awkward stiffness of his arm, the gentle, almost delicate way he places the plushie on the desk. It takes him by surprise when Kay then reaches out and pats his arm.  
  
"You saved lives out there, kid," he says. "I'm proud of ya."  
  
Jay lowers his eyes for a moment and nods. When he looks up again, Kay is standing, visibly steeling himself to let go of the desk.  
  
"Hey, hey," says Jay, stumbling upright to brace his partner round the waist. "Where do you think you're going?"  
  
"Stretch my legs a bit," says Kay, but leans heavily into Jay's side, suddenly shielding his eyes with his hand.  
  
"I'm gonna need a better excuse next time, Slick," Jay says, and Kay huffs the ghost of a laugh into his shoulder. "Now, c'mon, I'll keep this watch; you lie down before you fall down. I got a couch right here with your name on it."

 

* * *

 

+1.

 

Tensions run high in the neighbourhood sometimes. Kay likes to say it has to do with the ebb and flow of the solar wind, but Kay...might just be saying that to be funny. There are still times when Jay can't tell.  
  
No one's laughing now, anyway. Trust the Enceladans to make a scene in the dead of night, in the dead of winter. Sure they might have a bone to pick with their icy prophet of peace and prosperity who, it turns out, has been lining his own pockets instead of theirs all along - but to pick the day he's visiting Earth and launch a dramatic attack _here_? That's just _nasty_. That ain't cool.  
  
So here they are, a crack team, six of MIB's best in a park at midnight, revving up their diplomatic skills - and their rifles, just in case. And, as with all badly planned revolutions, _just in case_ happens too damn soon.  
  
The Enceladans come in armed. From what the Twins can hack and decrypt, they're a small band of rebels with a military ship and a payload of cryobombs they know how to use. The decision boils down to hell or high water: attempt to talk the angry anarchists down before they blast a hole in the western hemisphere, or wait for them to get close enough to shoot out their navigation systems, using MIB's new tractor beams to pull them in to land.  
  
The vessel looms ever closer above them, refusing to answer their radio calls, five visible weapons sights blinking in sinister accord. There's a clear line of sight to the metal hull where the ship's steering computer lies, but at this angle, their backs to the river, the recoil from a tri-barrel would knock the shooter clear over the edge. It's a shot even the best would hesitate to take.  
  
Kay is in position before the others can yell at him to stop. Kay is six inches from the bank of the Hudson, and Kay takes the shot.  
  
-  
  
Sixteen minutes later, they find him, alive.  
  
Jay leaves his team in charge of the coasting ship - 'cause Kay hit his mark; he always does - and hightails it to the rescue van downstream. Thinks up a couple one-liners on the way, ranks them from 'squinty eyes' to 'smirk of amusement'. He's got about five solid puns ready to roll when he pulls up at the scene and is struck by the eerie silence.  
  
Jay's on his feet in a dead sprint before he's had a chance to think. Kay should be _yelling_ , barking orders, demanding answers - quiet like this, on a mission he's leading, almost always means he's hurt.  
  
Kay's not visibly injured now, but the sight of him is far from reassuring. He's curled up in the van with his eyes shut, dressed in clean and dry black sweats and socks, breathing in heavy puffs of mist as an agent rubs his hair with a fluffy towel. Another puts a blanket over him; he only twitches vaguely in response.  
  
"Report," Jay says to the agents, reaching out to palm Kay's cheek. He's shivering - convulsive, bone-deep shivering, hands trembling, too pale, too cold. "Kay. Hey, what's up, man? _Kay_."  
  
"We should get him back to HQ. He's not talking."  
  
" _No shit_ he's not talking," Jay mutters, shakes Kay gently by the shoulder. "Kay, hey, dude, you gotta talk to your partner now, c'mon."  
  
Kay blinks his eyes open, flinches backward, coughs into his fist, and mumbles something in Spanish. When he looks up, there is no recognition in his eyes.  
  
Jay's breath catches in his throat as he plays his last card.  
  
"Look at me, Kay," he snaps. "Answer me. _That's an_ _order_."  
  
Kay's eyes spark back into focus, burn with a force Jay's never seen before. He draws himself up, quiet, regal; spits his words like a submachine gun.  
  
"My name's Agent Kay," he says, country accent thrumming with fire. "Special Agent in Charge, New York; Section Chief of the eastern US. INS Division 6, Rank 6, serial number A-7906. That, young man, is _colonel to you._ "  
  
Jay stares mutely at his partner, jaw set valiantly against the tremors racking him, silver hair gleaming in the moonlight, so damn ready to go down fighting. Wonders, if they had a dress uniform, how many medals Kay'd consider the equivalent of one plush toy given him by a child who then forgot. Reaches out to hold his shoulders; watches the wary confusion in his eyes.  
  
"Buddy," he breathes. "Let's get you home."  
  
-  
  
Jay makes a junior agent take the wheel of the Merc, and clumsily bundles his partner into the back. Kay uncurls just long enough to try to help with the blanket, but he can't seem to make his fingers work; Jay tucks him close into his side and wraps them both at once.  
  
"Man," he whispers to the top of Kay's head, "all these years and you're still a dumbass."  
  
Kay doesn't talk, doesn't seem to have heard - can't seem even to catch his breath. The shivering returns in violent waves, his forehead damp with cold sweat, and Jay has to hold him tight round the waist to prevent him from trying to get away.  
  
"Lemme go," he whispers, finally wracked with a spasm so deep he lets the pain show on his face. "Please. Just. Let me go."  
  
"No," Jay says quietly. "I can't, and I won't."  
  
He doesn't. Kay somehow gets colder anyway. Jay keeps up a string of talk to keep him awake; halfway to HQ, he stops shivering.  
  
-  
  
Zed is waiting for them on the MIB doorstep. Kay peers intensely at his face, a worrying blankness in his eyes.  
  
Jay, still talking on autopilot, hears himself say one of the dumbest things he's ever uttered. "Kay, can you walk?"  
  
Kay, being Kay even when he's barely conscious, chooses to reply to said dumbest thing. " 'Course I can," he mumbles, and promptly falls over his own feet.  
  
Jay and Zed catch him between them, medbay team trailing behind as they manhandle him into the elevator.   
  
"My dear old friend," says Zed softly, "what have you gotten yourself into now?"  
  
-  
  
Kay has gotten himself hypothermic as fuck, is what he's done. He's on a plateau at eighty-nine Fahrenheit, can barely hold his head up long enough for the alien-tech thermometer to get a reading. Standard procedure says warm him up slowly, watch him closely in case he gets worse. Lady Lilac takes Jay aside and explains that 'worse' means they might have to cut him open, and warm him up that way.   
  
Jay hears that, watches Kay try to get up and nearly faceplant off the bed, and immediately makes an executive decision: they will be headquartered on The Couch. And, bless the doctor's three hearts, five minutes later that's exactly where they are. Jay makes a quick supply run while the medical team hooks Kay up to a pulse-ox monitor, but is there to hear his soft gasp as they wrap him tight in a warming blanket, watch his face crease with pain as the heat slowly starts to sink in.  
  
"Hey," he whispers, pulling him close. "I'm right here, okay? Don't you worry 'bout a thing."  
  
-  
  
Kay starts to shiver again about ten minutes into Operation Blanket. It takes almost an hour for his breathing to even out, another quarter of that for him to try to lift his head from Jay's shoulder. He's not entirely successful, but the effort doesn't leave him winded, so Jay cautiously considers it a good sign.  
  
"Hey, partner," he says, gently booping Kay's nose. "You back on this planet?"  
  
Kay looks up and squints, like he's just realized Jay's there. Guess not.   
  
"What year is it?" Jay says.  
  
Kay frowns. "I'm not tellin' ya."  
  
O...kay then. "Humour me."  
  
Kay considers, then shakes his head. "I'm not telling you _anything_."  
  
"Okay," Jay says.  
  
-  
  
Kay continues to be a quiet burrito for a while. His heartbeat picks up steadily and the shivers start to die down, but he can't seem to do coherence quite yet. Jay puts on a movie in an attempt to entertain him, but he tries to shake the sound from his ears, so, well. That ends that.  
  
"Hey. Hey, partner. What's your name?"  
  
It's a well-worn path by now; he rolls his eyes. "Kay."  
  
"Where d'you think you are?"  
  
He sighs. "Let us walk in the woods, says the cat."  
  
"My dude," Jay says, "what does that even _mean_."  
  
Kay pulls his blanket up to his nose, stares at the wall for a good few minutes.  
  
"If...I could tell you, I'd let you know."  
  
"What."  
  
"A blaze," Kay mumbles dreamily, "of light, in every word. - You know, I'm not really sure what I'm sayin'."  
  
"Yeah? 'Cause I couldn't tell."  
  
"It's hot," Kay says.  
  
It really, _really_ isn't hot.  
  
-  
  
Jay succumbs to the silence and falls asleep for a bit. He's jolted back to awareness when his partner flinches violently beside him.  
  
Kay's still shivering lightly, but he looks more conscious than he's been in hours, staring at the vital signs monitor above him and pulling the warming blanket tighter. He's gasping again, too, pulse spiking, but this looks less like his body shutting down than actual, _disoriented control freak_ level panic - and panic, Jay can fix.  
  
"Hey," he says, reaching out to rub Kay's back. "Kay, hey, man, we're back at MIB, it's cool."  
  
"What," gasps Kay, " _the hell. W_ _hat the hell_. Where'd we take our trigger-happy landers? Did we break the tractor beams? Gimme a sitrep here, Tiger, stat."  
  
Jay gives up on getting Kay to try to relax, and physically drags him back against the couch, flailing arms and all. "Hey, the landers are all in custody. Tractor beams worked fine - the rifle-barrel approach to diplomacy...not so much. Also, don't you 'tiger' me, you almost died _again_ , sit your dumb self-sacrificing ass down and _shut up_."  
  
Kay blinks, but shuts up. His hands are still shaking, but not enough to spill the warm apple juice Jay shoves in his face - or drop the plushie he puts matter-of-factly in his hand.  
  
" - Jay, are you babying me?"  
  
"Yes," Jay says firmly, getting back under the blanket himself. "And now I'm sharing your blanket. And now I'm asking how you're feeling."  
  
Kay raises an eyebrow.  
  
"How," says Jay ominously. "Are. You. Feeling."  
  
Kay gives him the squinty eyes for a solid few seconds, but then he breaks and smiles softly, and Jay _has_ to hug him; it's the law.  
  
He says, contemplatively, "I feel like I've been burning, but now I'm cold."  
  
Jay lets out a long breath. "And - that's it. Holy _shit_ , Kay, welcome back. - No, don't you _dare_ move this goddamn blanket. This blanket saved your life, man. Have some respect."  
  
-  
  
The medical team declare Kay safe, and Jay mildly bullies him into lying down. Within the next ten minutes, the inner office is a _zoo_.  
  
Frank shows up first, his ears and tail drooping until he sees that Kay's alive. He begs his way into a scratch behind the ears, then wags his entire little body and settles down happily on the man's feet.  
  
The Twins are next, with an offering of a video game. Kay's very clearly still too unwell to play, but signs to them in Centaurian and they wave their eyestalks in understanding.  
  
The Worms are nowhere near as quiet.  
  
_"Kay!"_ they yell at top volume, descending from the vents, and Kay grins but also looks like his head hurts just from looking at them, so Jay tells them to shut up or get out. They choose, surprisingly, to shut up, and pile themselves artistically on the coffee table to mope in silence.  
  
Finally, Zed drops by with a book of poetry under his arm. He hands the book to Jay, kneels gravely beside the couch, and Kay gives him a tired smile.  
  
"You doing okay?" Zed says.  
  
Kay says, "Look around you, boss."  
  
Zed pats him on the shoulder and smiles.  
  
"Get some sleep."  
  
"Good sentiment. Too on edge; doubt I will."  
  
Zed shakes his head, but doesn't push it. "Heard you've been saying some surreal shit, Section Chief. Let me know it's really you in there, huh?"  
  
Kay replies, weary but suddenly resonant: _"I have walked out in rain, and back in rain."_  
  
Jay looks down at the book in his hands, and suddenly a lot of tonight makes sense. Perhaps, this time, he'll let these maniacs stay a while before he chases them out.  
  
-  
  
Dawn is breaking and the crowd's dispersed when Kay finally feels well enough to ditch the blankets. He hasn't slept at all but insists on showering anyway, is savvy enough about his health to blow-dry his hair, and Jay is so incredibly glad to see him in his suit and tie again that he flouts the doctors' orders and brings him coffee. He might also hug him, tight enough to hurt, but he sighs deeply, happily, and hugs him back - so there.  
  
Kay wraps his fingers round the cup of coffee, pauses for a moment to savour the warmth, then takes it over to the window and drinks it while watching the world come awake. Jay drinks his own, across the room, watches his partner smile quietly at a goofy Shakespeare rehearsal in the park, and wonders - not for the first time - what the hell he'd ever do without him.  
  
-  
  
The HQ alert bell buzzes clear and bright at eight in the morning. Jay, out of habit, grabs a passing messenger bot, and finds himself grinning within seconds.  
  
He gives a thumbs-up to the waiting bot, grabs the green plushie from the desk, and goes to tap Kay on the shoulder.  
  
"C'mon, you," he says, gently tucking the toy into his coat pocket. "Gliesian ambassador needs a pickup, couple hours' journey either way. I called dibs. We're going for a ride."  
  
They're doing one better than go for a ride. Jay's had the bots locate Kay's old Ford LTD, and can't resist shoving him playfully as he heads for the passenger seat. Kay, for his part, takes it like a boss; this car's seen him through hell and worse, so it's only fair that she get to hold him now. He fastens his seatbelt almost lovingly, sighs as Jay starts the ignition, _actually pauses to loosen his tie_ \- a fraction of an inch, but hey, he _does_.  
  
They stop for hot soup by way of breakfast; the sun warms them the rest of the way. Kay relaxes by degrees, eventually leaning his head against the glass and contentedly watching the world go by. Jay cranks up the sound system and puts on _Elvis' Golden Greats_ ; this was meant to be a birthday present, but he figures it'll do pretty damn well as a Thank-Fuck-You're-Alive present, too.  
  
Jay doesn't kid himself that this is over - Kay did fall into a freezing river, and knowing Kay's luck with this sort of thing, the inevitable respiratory infection's already preparing to kick his ass. But for now - he's got him warm, and happy, and _safe_ , and that's what matters. He'll probably fall asleep against the window soon, likely after they pick up the Ambassador, and since her species can sense states of healing, she'll smile indulgently and let him rest. He'll wake him once they're back at HQ, and offer to drive him home.  
  
Meanwhile, Elvis sings of rock, love and teddy bears. And Kay's too tired to sing along, but he soaks in the sunshine and smiles.

 

* * *

 

**_MIB Procedural Code 478-5b: Protocol Kappa_ **

_No MiB agent shall ever mention the presence of an alien plush toy anywhere about the person of Agent Kay. The existence of this alien teddy bear is neither officially confirmed nor denied._

 

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  ~~please leave a comment so i can proceed to neuralyze you and make you read it again~~   
> 


End file.
